Dawnlark Plains lvi. ‘cause all that remains

They had come to the plains in good time. Kigipigak was thrilled, and tired, and cold, but mostly he forgot himself as he ran across the grass and through the snow, which fell steadily.

He was like a boy again — tempting others with playful chuffs in to a game of tag across the expanse, or visiting with the children that were not his own, or with Kukutux, as he made his rounds of their most recent camp. In another few days they would reach the glacier and their hunting would begin.

It was happenstance that put Kigipigak on the trail of Lote, who had not been searching for her at all, and had been distracted by his own whims moreso than the path she carved across the plain. He had found it easier to run a particular route as he explored; it was one already predetermined by some large animal or a group of them, and his mind was focused on the herd, which he might manage to see if he could climb high enough upon these hills.

As he hiked he found the trail split somewhat, with smaller creatures having taken steps around one larger one, and stopped to finally investigate the trail properly. This was when he found the scent of Lote in earnest, and was surprised, but also invigorated. Aiolos had told him that first hunter had vanished some time ago and then Kukutux had said his wife, Lote, had gone missing with the children.

Kigipigak moved with a more determined force down one hill and along where the path continued, sweeping in an arc across the plain, until he spotted something moving distantly and called out with a brief, sharp howl — something to alert the others, as well as warn the shape of his approach. There was a strong blood scent the closer he got as well as something altogether different: oaken, like a wet forest, and bitter like smoke. The smell of bear.